The Horror Type
by Dan Amsterdam The Second
Summary: The enchanted typewriter has been stolen by an aspiring author with plans to rule the world, but a familiar face has been sent to stop him...
1. Starting The Startling Story

_None of the characters, locations and miscellaneous are owned by that of this author, with the exception of Dan Amsterdam who is owned by Dan Amsterdam._

The night outside was quiet in Madison, Deleware. For many of the residents this served as a welcome atmosphere after the incidents that took place over two years ago. For now, all that remained was the occasional nightmare of zombies, werewolves and ventriloquist dummies. The town has seen that it will remain this way, for the gateway to the horrors has been kept under wraps and not one of Madison's citizens would dare think of unleashing such twisted powers again.

Instead, a stranger to this town would arrive to reinstate the cycle of fear.

Yes, he could see fit as none other. The Great Daniel Amsterdam, as he so gladly referred to himself to, approached the high school in which the morbid artifact was kept. "Tonight is the night, for tonight begins my magnum opus! Oh how dreadful it is yet, that not one ounce of fanfare upon my arrival." Amsterdam sighed in falsetto and threw back his elegant satin cape. He sprinkled the sidewalk with rose petals in order to make the ground worthy for him to set foot on. Opening the front door with a set of forged keys, Amsterdam strongly wanted to make his typical deramatic entrance in doves and fireworks flew out, but this task would require him to remain in an unnoticed state. Stealthily he pranced down the hallway over to the glass case where the infamous typewriter of terror was held under lock and key. Amsterdam pulled out his jewel-encrusted fan, which would serve as a glass cutter in this instance, and opened the case to claim his grand prize.

"Is someone here?" The booming voice of what was most likely a security guard echoed down the hallway. Frantically Amsterdam yanked the typewriter out of the case and began mashing the keys. "there is not" Amsterdam jotted down in response to the security guard's raging query. In nearly a split-second Amsterdam was teleported miles away from the crime scene.

Finding himself in what felt like a wheat field, Amsterdam moaned in content escastsy. "Marvelous! Oh how simply marvelous!"  
With another stroke of the keys Amsterdam teleported himself back to his sparkling mansion. "All of it, the world, it can be all for my taking. A new dawn has arisen, and now all shall know the glory of my unparelleled art!" With that he rubbed himself over with lavious oils and retired to his bedroom. Tommorrow morning he would unfurl his dreams.


	2. A Bone To Pick

The name's Curly. Maybe you've head of me, maybe you ain't. Whatever the case, I've been around fer some time, fully embracin' that cowboy persona T. made me for the postcard book. More to the point, bounty-huntin' is my game now.

Now after all that hubbub back in Delaware there's been a real interest in gettin' a hold of that dark typewriter magic. 'Course folks don't know where to find the genuine article, so there's been an awful lotta bootlegs poppin' up around. And let me tell you, sub-par black magic mixed with hack writing always results in seeing some real dumb shit. Naturally, that's where my gig figures in. There's an order to the world that needs to be upheld, and they pay me real good to uphold it.

Today instead we're gonna see me go to a meeting. Seems the King Jellyjam managed to get a hold of my whereabouts and now he's expectin' answers outta me. Seeing as I ran up a lot of debt within our business relation, I figure we could square some shit out and get him off my back for a while. That or I'm gonna need to flush him down.

So there's Buddy standin' guard by the door and flaggin' me over. Tells me to meet the King in the back corner of his restaurant, which I've never seen anyone dine at and never expect to. "Curly, you weasely sonofabitch, sit your ass bones down at let me tell you the business!" Ugh, here we go. Better hurry up and get out before his stench gets all over me again. Hard to get people to cooperate in those instances.

"We got ourselves a serious matter here. Seem's someone's tracked down the real deal and made off with it. Now my boys went over to do some digging and immediately we found the calling card of some sod by the name of Dan Amsterdam. Now given how little this motherfucker seems to care about staying hidden, we can only assume this guy's about to pull off somethin' real brass. I trust you see where the hell I'm goin' with this, and you better believe this is real important. Hell, you want the debt off, take care of this situation and everything's settled."

Oh ho, now we're talkin'! So what do I tell 'em, I tell 'em he's got a deal. And now out the restaurant and on to my next job. I'm comin' for you, Danny-boy...

Aw shit, I got enough stench on me to last a week.


	3. Typing Up To Fright

The dawn had arisen and Daniel Amsterdam was overjoyed to see that his plans were about to come to fruitation. "Ahh, after so many a time, the greatest power ever dreamed of now lies within my grasp. Oh what a sight to behold, and what's more, I shall delight myself with an orgasmic symphony of clattering!" With a sprayover of exotic perfume, Amsterdam sat down and lightly bushed his fingers along the keys. And then he typed.

Not soon after, a Stormtrooper formed out of thin air. "Ah, Gregory. It has been so long. Welcome to the beginning of my wonderous world!" "Uh, yeahhh..." Greg muttered, "so then what is it I can do for you?" "You, my dear, I have chosen you to become the leader of my personal entourage of enforcement. It is well known in our circle that the bounty hunter are sure to follow. And yet, no matter how many times you will hear them claim to hunt for money and glory and what have you, I know the truth of the motives, simple jealously. Jealously, of literacy savants such as myself! They want only to tear down we of the writing prowess that they can never hope to muster. And now here you are, master of the merry crew that will deny them their petty squabbles."

"Huh. Well that's all well and good but uh, where's all the other guys." "Hmmm? Ah yes. Let us bring them out right now." Amsterdam turned back to the typewriter and began to recall the various denizens of his stories and bring them into the real world. "Come one, come all, return to my employ and uphold my new world's creation! Presenting Oswald! Mr. Slice & Dice! Hazel Frost! That warehouse robot thing! Return, all! Our reckoning is at hand!"

By the time Amsterdam had ended his triade, an army of dozens stood outside his courtyard, prepared to serve his will. "Behold Gregory, a grander army you could never ask for. Now then, I trust you are to head out now to heed my bidding, hmmm?"

Greg cleared his throat. "Oh yeah, that's a swell army, but uh, didn't you remember I had my own Death Star?"

Amsterdam had not. "Oh, yes that is right. Alas that presents a bit of an overreach. Go on then with your mission. Chop chop."


	4. Army Of Harshness

p style="text-align: left;" Curly here. Got a lead on where ol' Danno's been hangin' out. Now seein' as our boy's got some real legit power to play with, it ain't gonna do no good with the usual routine of chargin' in with my horse With No Name and my trusty five-shooter (can't fit anything in one of the cylinders but otherwise it never lets me down). What this situation calls for is for extra /br / Any minute now it should be comin' in. Called in a favor from Lawn Gorilla, he's got a hand on the good shit. And here it comes, exactly what I need to take on some second-rate dandy and his magic typewriter, an oil tanker armed to the /br / Wonder what the hell the driver wants. "Oh hey Curly, how you doing?" "Can't complain. What's with you?" "Lawn Gorilla sent me if you need a reinforcement. It's Marty." "Who?" "Marty, from Bad Hare Day?" "'Fraid I don't recollect. "Remember, I was the guy who went to dealership Tim's dad worked at, got him to let me have a test drive and then stole it?" "No. But let's just get this damned thing over with."br /br / -br /br / A few hours later and halfway to Amsterdam's hovel, we seem to have run across the first sign of interference. A gaggle of random nutballs stormin' down the street. Looks like that one Stormtrooper is callin' the shots. Ah, classic ameteur style, takin' a famous goon, givin' 'em a name and declarin' 'em a wholly brand new and original character, do not /br / "Evenin' gentlemen. What can I do ya for?" Luckily I still brought No. 5 with me, freein' up the main load to save for the Big Kahuna himself. "Halt, bounty hunter, we have orders not to let your kind go any further." "Yeah well seein' as I ain't got such orders I'll just be goin' on my merry way." "Then you leave us no choice. Unclecide-playing nerds, flank the vehicle. Mr. Slice Dice, full-on ahead towards the /br / The guy in the rubbery blade costume steps up. "My name is Mr. Slice Nice, if only my own creator would remember that." Oh, he plannin' to take me down with a sobfest? Nope, he's chargin' right at me, and now the nerd are advancin'. Not a problem as my calcium-enforced fists know how to take care of this situation. And oh hey, Marty's managin' to hold up too, he knows kung fu for some /br / Naturally when ye're dealin' with a guy with knives for arms, you don't wanna take it. So I'm bobbin' and weavin', we're getting closer to the tanker, and Slice Dice or whatever takes a swipe at me and end up puncturin' the /br / Now he must have caused a spark or somethin', since the whole damn truck exploded! Still, the explosion took out all these troublemakers. Still again, my stockpile's gone. Oh well, looks like I'm gonna have to make do. Danny knows I'm comin' for him, so this is gonna have to end now. Reader beware (or at least I think he was a reader), you're in for a fight! (for lack of a decent rhyme) Ah hell, let's go./p 


	5. The Darkness And The Devine

"Tragedy! TRAGED-Y-Y-Y-Y! How could such a thing happen? My very creations, brought down by naught but a walking pile of bones! Does he not understand, I am an artist! To defile my very canvas, this genocide upon every last one of my masterpiece shall not be taken with light! Oh, how more faint I grow within each passing minute! I'm weary, Oswald. All of you have failed me, and my plans have been hurled into utter disarray. My new world has been pushed beyond my grasp, woe is upon me."

Oswald piped up, "Well sir, if you would recall, we did have a Death Star that you could have used instead." "Oh please Oswald, you should know better than anyone else that a good author never reviews his work! Oh no no no no no dearry, what we need to combat this unpleasantness is to conviece of an entirely new prospect."

"Yes, I see. Of course there is also the option of simply just making Curly disappear or something, seeing as you are playing God and all." It was at this moment, that Daniel Amsterdam had been given a new sinister idea.

"Oh yes, that is simply it! Surely no other force can hope to match the prowess of the Almighty One Himself." With his plan announced, Amsterdam swooped over to the typewrite to type in "And then God arrived to do Daniel's bidding." Upon his entering of period, Amsterdam had summoned Whom would be his mightiest enforcer yet.

"THOU HAS SUMMONED THEE, A MOST UNWISE DECISION." "Ah, God, truly a literal god among men. I trust you know why I have brought you here. "THAT THOU HAVE SPECIFICALLY CALLED THEE FOR THE MERE ERRAND OF VANQISHING THY FOE CURLINGTON JAMES SKELETON PROVES THE VERY DEPRAVITY OF THY HEDONISM. THOUGH THEE HAVE BECOME BOUND TO THOU BY THY DARK MAJIKS, THERE SHALL BE A SEVERE CONSEQUENCE TO THY ACTIONS." Interesting. In the meantime however I will needed you to stand guard outside my abode for when the skeleton shows up. Chop chop." God could not have looked any more dissapointed. Nonetheless, He now had to do as He had been told.

"Hey guys, so in case you're still gonna need me, could one of you give me my arm back?" Amsterdam smirked, "Perhaps that is something worth...praying for."


	6. Welcome To Alive House

Hope you've been catchin' up on the pattern, 'cause once more it's Curly time. So what's been goin' on, well after all that fracas with Danny's goon squad, I've had to tail it all the way here on foot with Marty. Now he's still dead mind you, but damned if his carcass didn't hold use for carryin' around the remainin' munitions. But enough about that, we got a madman who's about to regret ever becomin' literate. Gates are open, looks like he's expectin' me.

Now given all this time you'd think our friend here would've set up a whole gauntlet of nutjobs to square off against me. Nope. It's that Stormtrooper who's arm got blown off from the tanker explosion. So much for the graditude of lettin' him off easy. Oh wait, scratch that, I though him already dead. And now his arm's back, only it's the size of a gorilla's like that one Far Side strip.

"Halt cowboy! We trust you are prepared for a fight because I am ready to make a snap decision." "Whoa now buddy, the pun business ain't for everyone. You'd best stick with the Stormtroopin' stuff." This guy seemed to miss my drift, as swingin' his bigass arm around wasn't what I was referrin' to. As such, he tries to take a slug at me and gets his hand stuck in the wall. Seein' as he's outta commission, I think I'll leave him with a little trickshot and shoot his helmet off. Only thing, it doesn't come off. "My face melted and stuck to the helmet after the explosion, thank you very much." Well, might unfortunate, that.

Alright then, you actually gonna throw a real challenge for me, Danno? "THY REQUEST FOR A CHALLENGE HATH INDEED BEEN ANSWERED." Holy Toledo, if it ain't God Himself. What, did I know that's God? "IT IS BY A WICKED HAND THAT THEE HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO VANQUISH THOU." "Ah, we meet at last." So here he is, the man behind the typewriter, the mastermind who's been causin' all this trouble. Hell of a lot fatter than they say.

"Now dear Curly, it is far from my intention to have you killed, on the contrary I now have something else in mind." He's got the typewriter out and dammit, he also had the foresight to get a holy force field around him. God's got a plan for me, though right now He has to wait for this lump to tell Him what it is. "ALAS, THY ORDERS HAVE BEEN GIVEN. THOU SHALL BE RETURNED TO LIFE." What.

And then that's when I start feeling. My heart's back and pumpin', my muscles are achin' and my skin's all itchy and tingly. It's been so long, hell I forgot I was Croatian. Still, it's gonna take a while to get used to livin' again, and now is not a good time. 'Scuse me while I go into convulsions.


	7. In The Valley Of The Dan

*cough* Ughhh...I ain't got time to get used to this livin'. Yep, Curly once again. Since Danny-ban don't narrate and I do, this is gonna be my gig in our togetherness chapters or whatever the hell you would call 'em. But I gotta digress, there's a whole shit goin' on outside and they got me locked up. So what are we lookin' at? Hmmm, wooden door, brick wall, looks like yer classic dungeon cell. Is our boy original or what?

All kind of flashin' lights going on from the other side of the window, what the hell did he do this time? Well dammit, this guy went and destroyed almost all the laws of reality! Whole bunches of floatin' islands around a swirlin' brownish sky. Some poor soul floatin' around, looks like Danny decided to be a dick and replace their eyes with wings. And here comes some cheesy-lookin' crystal throne floatin' over towards my direction.

"This world, oh this world has never felt so pure!" he says as he rubs his nipples, christ, how do I always end up havin' to deal with nutters like these? "Thank you for coming to take a front row seat in my new era of brilliance. For now though I must transverse the world to fix some of the less-stable pockets of this realm. Toodle-oo, Curly-poo!"

Alright, sounds like this buys me some time to make an escape. Nothin' too flashy, I'll just chew through the door as I've had to previously. The only problem in this instance is the whole bein'-alive thing, so I'd better hurry up before passin' out or dyin' and losin' some important time. Here goes. CRUNCH. CRUNCH. Ah geez, this pain thing's really gettin' to me...

-

Finally outta that shithole. Passed out twice than died. Now I got me in zombie status, and I ain't got time to wait for all this stuff to rott off me. Anyway, I presently gotta find my way outta the rest of Dan's house. Hold up, what's with that room over there with all the typewriters?

Well don't this be damned, it's a whole bunch of counterfeit magic typewriters connected together for a combined power that nearly rivals the legit article! 'Course knowin' what we know 'bout this guy, that just ain't good enough for his ego. But now for the anti-climax. "Dan Amsterdam and all his creations were sent back to their realm and the world went back to normal." Poof. Everything's fine and dandy again.

"THOU HATH PERFORMED VALIANTLY. THY GRATITUDE IS BESTOWED UPON THEE." "Well much obliged Big Guy. Say, if it weren't too much fer askin', you don't suppose you could speed up this carcass cleanin'? "CONSIDER IT DONE." And here come the locusts. Sweet deal.


	8. It's Only A Writemare

Bonejour mon ami! Le bounty has been finished, so ze will be moving on to a different gimmick for ze next bounty, oh-hoho! Andz now we are off to give ze main typewriter to the escargot-sweating King Jellyjam ze First! (presumably)

"You performed near-admirably. Sure could've done without the whole altering of reality thing, but we should trust you learned a valueable lesson on keeping time." "Mon cherie, mwah, how great zit is to finally be free of your debt! But do tell me, what will become of ze great typewriter?" "Kinda funny you'd ask, but seein' as all of Amsterdam's leads have been taken of, we see no harm in returnin' the typewriter to the high school, as it's almost always worked for us."

"But tell me Curly, what did you do with Amsterdam himself?" "Oh-hoho, sacre beu, what would be more fitting for a man who loves his stories, but zto put him inside a story himself!"

-

Deep down in the dark catacaombs of Slime Caverns Daniel Amsterdam found himself wandering for what seemed like hours. "This is beyond the very realms of uncouth," Amsterdam muttered, "Never before has there been such flagrant disregard for a treasure of the world such as myself! Oh this disgraceful action will not go unheeded! Mark my words, Curlington, you will rue, and you will rue in the highest!"

"Ehem." Amsterdam heard something in a dark recess. "It is my understanding that you wish to return to your original world." A large stitched-up turkey stepped out of the shadows. "Are you...Frankenturkey?" "I would prefer the monkier of Frankenfowl, actually. More to the point, I and a few other individuals have an invested interest in procuring an entry into your world. I trust you are familar with my associates, the Abomidable Snow Monster, the Aqua Apes, the Blood-Red Eight Ball, and even a few of the Shockroaches. Now then, may we trust your hand in alliance?"

"Good sir, you have a deal! Now let us laugh on it." And so they laughed...evilly...

THE END


End file.
